


I'm a fool for you

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Swim Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, swimming’s probably the only school sport he might actually be decent at.  It’s the second most popular team – lacrosse being the first – and they often win trophies for the school.  And best of all, the captain of the swim team happens to be the guy Stiles has had a crush on since freshman year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a fool for you

Stiles is barely through the doors to Beacon Hills High School when there’s the squeak of rubber soles and Scott appears next to him, all floppy hair and energy. 

Just looking at him, wide awake and smiling, makes Stiles feel even more tired, but he smiles, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“Hey, buddy.” 

Scott grins back, but his gaze is elsewhere. When Stiles glances at where Scott’s staring, he’s not too surprised to see Kira. Scott looks all goofy and when Kira glances back, she smiles softly back, ducking her head slightly, and Stiles really doesn’t understand why the two of them aren’t together already. They’re perfect for each other.

“I’m gonna ask her to come to practice after school,” Scott says. 

“Yeah?” Stiles smiles. “Good on you, dude.”

Scott’s smile turns sly as he glances at Stiles. “Maybe you should ask Boyd to come too.”

Stiles pauses, feeling a little guilty. “About that...”

“What?”

“I quit the lacrosse team.”

Scott stops dead in the middle of the corridor. “You did _what_?” 

A bunch of freshman shove into them as they pass and Scott reluctantly starts walking again, but moves so he’s in front of Stiles and walking backwards. Stiles gives it one minute before he either trips or knocks into someone.

“I quit,” Stiles replies. “I spoke to Coach on Friday and handed in my crosse.”

Scott’s giving him this little frown. “But...we’ve always been on the team together.”

“I’m not sure I count two years as _always_ ,” Stiles replies, gripping the straps of his backpack. “Besides, I mostly sit on the bench alone now.”

Guilt flashes across Scott’s face and shit, Stiles didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but it’s true. Scott had a bit of a growth spurt over the summer; he’s still lanky, but more lean than skinny these days, and his asthma hasn’t been as bad, so he’s faster. All their practice over the summer has paid off for Scott; he actually gets to play on the field these days.

Stiles loves lacrosse. But he spends practises getting covered in mud and bruised and exhausted from suicides and getting his ass kicked by the likes of Jackson, and he spends the games as a bench warmer, watching everyone else play. He’ll miss lacrosse and he’ll miss being on the team with Scott, but...he’s only got the time this year for one team and he knows which one he wants to be on.

“Tryouts for the swim team are on Friday, and...” Stiles shrugs. “I’m gonna give it a shot. I’ve never been too bad at swimming.”

Honestly, swimming’s probably the only school sport he might actually be decent at. It’s the second most popular team – lacrosse being the first – and they often win trophies for the school. And best of all, the captain of the swim team happens to be the guy Stiles has had a crush on since freshman year.

“Vernon Boyd,” Scott says, with so much resignation Stiles almost laughs.

He looks over as they approach Boyd’s locker. As usual, he’s stood with Erica and Isaac. There are popular people on the swim team – like Derek Hale – and there are people like Stiles on the swim team. Then there’s Boyd and Isaac, who aren’t _un_ popular, but don’t really hang out with the popular crowd that often either. They tend to stick in their group of three.

Stiles holds back a sigh. Boyd’s wearing his swim team jacket, the fabric taut over his biceps as he folds his arms and leans against his locker. He’s just so _attractive_. He’s got a smirk on his face that matches his quiet but dry, sarcastic humor, but when he closes his locker, he does it so gently, and Stiles doesn’t miss Isaac’s grateful look.

“You’re staring,” Scott says.

“It should be illegal to be that good looking.”

Scott rolls his eyes, leading Stiles away towards homeroom. “Fine, I forgive you for quitting lacrosse.” He gives Stiles’ shoulder a little supportive squeeze. “Good luck at the tryouts.”

Stiles bumps against him with a little grin.

 

 

Stiles wraps his arms around himself, toes curling around the edge of the pool. There are a few people that have come to watch the tryouts and he’s one of quite a few that are giving it a shot.

He feels ridiculous. There are a lot of guys with frankly unnecessary shoulder to waist ratios and he doesn’t even have a hint of muscle on his flat stomach. He’s pale and too tall and too skinny, with too many clumsy limbs. He hadn’t thought about swimming trunks until it was too late, so he’s wearing the bright green, tight Speedos he got back in middle school, and he knows a few people are laughing at how he looks in them. 

There’s a splash, water spraying his face, as another potential takes off in the water, giving it all they’ve got. Most of the team’s there to watch and teach, but so far, Stiles hasn’t seen Boyd. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. He’s not as nervous as he would be if he knew Boyd’s eyes were on him, so maybe it’s a good thing.

“Stilinski,” Coach Cookler calls, giving a little sharp blast on his whistle. “You’re up.”

Stiles takes a deep breath and dives into the water. He’s never been good at diving, though, so it ends up as more of a belly flop and he winces at the sting, but pushes himself to start swimming. He’s always been a decent swimmer; he has good power in his legs and he’s usually pretty fast when he tries to be. He pushes everything he has into this, focuses on how much he wants to be on the team, and the time flies by.

By the time he drags his tired body out of the pool and grabs his inhaler, taking a quick puff, he’s feeling pretty proud of himself.

And then he realizes Boyd’s stood next to the Coach.

He doesn’t know how long Boyd’s been stood there watching, but his gaze is on Stiles for just a moment, just long enough for Stiles to feel hot, stomach fluttery. Boyd looks away, says something to Coach, and then dives into the pool.

Stiles has to look away.

He’s tired and sore when practice is over. It’s different from lacrosse – less bruises – but just as intense; his muscles ache and his limbs feel like noodles as he drags himself into the locker room. He takes a quick shower to get rid of the stink of chlorine clinging to his skin and gets dressed.

He’s made plans with Scott to meet at the gates after tryouts and go hang out; play video games at Scott’s and pig out on junk food. It’s been their Friday ritual for years and Stiles doesn’t want to keep Scott waiting.

But when he sees Boyd, he can’t help but hesitate, then rush to catch up.

“Hey,” he says, injecting loud confidence into his voice to cover up his nerves.

Boyd glances over. “Hey.” It’s quiet, but not necessarily hostile, so Stiles pushes on.

“How’d I do?”

“You’re good.”

Stiles can’t help the grin that steals over his lips at that, feeling all warm and happy. Boyd glances over, lips twitching slightly before he continues.

“Your technique needs a _lot_ of work. But you’re fast, I’ll give you that. Faster than a lot of the others.” 

Stiles feels almost giddy. “So do you think I’ll get a spot on the team?”

Boyd looks amused. “I’ll talk to Coach.”

“ _Yes_!” Stiles bounces slightly. “You’re the best, dude.”

Boyd snorts and walks off ahead to where Isaac and Erica are waiting for him; Stiles knows that Boyd and Erica get the bus to and from school and Isaac rides his bicycle, but when they have practice, Erica will borrow her mom’s car to pick the boys up and give them a ride home.

“And Stilinski?” Boyd turns to look back at Stiles as he walks. “Try not to belly flop next time.”

Stiles feels his cheeks go hot, but he can’t help but laugh slightly, giving a quick, nervous nod. 

“Got it,” he says.

Boyd lifts his hand in a wave and Stiles reluctantly walks the other way to meet Scott. He feels on top of the world, stomach all fluttery, all because of talking to Boyd, and he can’t keep the grin off his face as he walks home with Scott.

A week later, a list goes up, and when Stiles sees his name on it, he almost does a victory dance right there in the corridor.

 

 

The thing is, Stiles never thought about the downside of it.

It’s _torturous_ at times. Even though he gets to talk to Boyd more, and Isaac invites him to a party for the swim team after the first meet, sometimes Stiles regrets his decision to try out.

Because Boyd is _incredible_. Stiles is always mesmerized when Boyd swims and when he climbs out, body dripping with water, Stiles just... _wants_.

And then there are the times that Boyd’s super close to him, whether they’re racing (Boyd wins three out of five) or Boyd’s showing him a technique. Sometimes, Boyd will put his hands on Stiles, coaxing him to extend his arms more, or testing the flex of his legs in the water, and every little touch has Stiles’ heart thundering, his belly tightening with happiness and want.

He tries to put it out of his head at the first meet. Thankfully, the rival team’s coming to them, and Stiles doesn’t have a long bus ride to let his nerves get the better of him. 

He’s wearing the official team swim trunks, sat in the locker room with his shoulders hunched, jittery with nerves when Scott finds him.

“Hey,” he says, surprised. “You’re here.”

Scott sits down next to him. “’Course, dude. Wouldn’t miss it. Kira’s out there too. We’ve got a sign and everything.”

Stiles smiles, bumping their shoulders. “Awesome.”

“You’ll be great,” Scott assures him. “You’re gonna kick ass and get drunk at the party and probably drunk dial me at 3am, but I’ll be too proud to be mad at you.”

Stiles does actually feel a bit better after Scott’s pep talk. He shares a hug with his best friend before reluctantly heading out to join the rest of his team.

He’s one of the first ones up for a race. He comes first place and hearing Scott and Kira cheering loudly for him, looking up to see his team applauding him, is amazing. He sees Scott and Kira hug, then kiss, then blush and look away and thinks... _yeah. Yeah, this is perfect_.

And then everything falls apart.

Boyd’s in the next race and Stiles is so distracted that Coach has to call him up three times before he scrambles to approach the edge of the pool. The next race is a relay; Boyd first, then Stiles, then Derek doing the last leg of it, racing the other team.

Stiles has to watch as Boyd dives smoothly into the water. Despite his strong frame, he cuts through the water effortlessly, body bladed and smooth, _fast_ , and Stiles feels his mouth go dry. At the end of the pool, Boyd pauses before climbing out; drops of water trail down his body, his swimming trunks clinging to muscular thighs, muscles flexing as he pulls himself up, and Stiles feels almost giddy.

Until he realizes that Boyd’s getting out of the pool because Stiles never jumped in, never did his part of the relay.

“Stilinski,” Derek Hale growls from behind him, gives him a little nudge.

Stiles tries to dive, ends up belly flopping, and feels his cheeks burn with humiliation as people laugh, but he pushes himself to keep going. Derek does his bit of the relay, but it’s too late; they come last.

The rest of the meet is a blur. They end up losing and Stiles feels humiliated, guilty, because it’s all his fault. None of his team mates say anything – Derek and Isaac even give him a reassuring little pat and a smile as they pass – but he still feels the weight of it, how he’s let them all down. How he’s let Boyd down.

He shuffles after them to the locker room. The others are on an adrenaline high from the meet, playing around and laughing, chatting about the party at Isaac’s. When most of them have filed out, Stiles finally sits down on a bench with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, it’s not your fault.”

Stiles curls in more. For the first time, he doesn’t want to look up at Boyd, just stares down at his hands. He feels Boyd sit down next to him, the hotness of his hand as he settles it on Stiles’ bare shoulder.

“Seriously,” he says, “It happens. You win some, you lose some. I used to take it hard, but that’s not the point of it. It’s fun. And you did great, Stiles.” 

Stiles looks up. “Really?” he asks, voice horribly small.

Boyd gives a little squeeze. “Really.”

His face is so open and sincere that Stiles can’t help but believe him, and he feels a hundred times better. He gives a little, genuine smile and Boyd claps him on the shoulder before standing. He stretches as Stiles scrambles to get to his feet. He needs to quickly shower and go find Scott and Kira.

“For the record,” Boyd says with a little smirk, “You could have just asked me out instead of gawping at me.”

Stiles gapes. “ _What_?”

Boyd gives his ass a playful swat and heads towards the showers. Stiles stares after him, stunned, until Boyd looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he slides his trunks down.

“Are you coming in or what?”

Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com - come say hi? :)


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